


Five Times Syndi Teller Accidentally Used Magic (and one time she did it on purpose)

by flashforeward



Series: The Mages [2]
Category: Eerie Indiana
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-25 03:29:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4945075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flashforeward/pseuds/flashforeward
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Syndi Teller slowly discovers that not only is there more to Eerie than it seems, there's more to her as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Party Fowl

**Author's Note:**

> The Party Fowl is entirely Froodle's fault.

The first time Syndi realized she had magic was at a rather lackluster party that Kevin Blackney had thrown while his parents were out of town. Syndi and Diane had gone because Diane had just had a bad break up and Syndi thought some socialization might cheer her up. They were about to leave because they'd found they were more interested in each other than anything going on at the party when the Party Fowl - a creature about whom Syndi had only heard rumors up to this point - burst through a partially open window with a squawk and the sound of shattering glass. That, as far as everyone else was concerned, heralded the party's end.

The chips were a no go now as the bird basically just shoved its face in the bowl and started chomping down. Then somehow, without lips, it managed to drink out of every single open bottle on the kitchen counter, making sure to spill some on the floor then trod in the puddles before returning to the living room and taking up position on the couch, turning the TV on to a football game that shouldn't have been on at this time of year and cranking the volume up.

People were leaving quickly, no one wanted to stick around with the Party Fowl there. Kevin looked devastated. Not because his party had ended, but by the state of his kitchen and the living room carpet not to mention the once pristinely white couch that now had sticky bird footprints on it. And some feathers had fallen from the Fowl's back and stuck in the footprints. It was all around not a very pretty sight.

"We should go," Diane said, but Syndi was watching Kevin who had started trying to clean up the kitchen with shaking hands, and she felt bad for him. Sure, his party hadn't been terribly great to begin with, but nobody deserved socially inconsiderate poultry.

Not thinking, Syndi strode over to the couch, standing in front of the TV so the bird had to look at her rather than the players who had, it appeared, started an all out brawl on the field. The bird managed to glare at her - at least, it looked like a glare. It was hard to tell with no eyebrows to clue Syndi in. It squawked indignantly, as if to say how dare you.

Which was pretty much what Syndi was thinking, and made this all that much easier. If slightly more ridiculous.

"Get out," Syndi said. The bird shook its head and squawked again, motioning with its wings for Syndi to move. She shook her head and stepped forward. "Get. Out." Her voice came out low with an odd sort of echo that shouldn't have been possible in the well furnished room. The Fowl froze and stared up at her, its eyes widening. "I said, Get. Out," she tried one last time. This time her voice practically boomed, filling the room even though she'd been speaking at a normal volume.

With one final squawk and a very loud crack, the Fowl disappeared in a swirl of feathers.

"Syndi?" Diane asked. "What just happened."

"I have no clue," Syndi said, shaking her head. "But at least that thing's gone."

"Um," Kevin's voice came quiet and soft from the kitchen door. "Please don't leave me?" he asked.

Syndi shook her head. "Of course not, you can't get this all cleaned up by yourself." She looked to Diane who shrugged then nodded, her dark curls bouncing around her chin. They'd have to postpone alone time, but Syndi wasn't just going to bail. Besides, clean up would give her time to think, maybe figure out what had just happened.

Hopefully.


	2. Dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm kind of nervous about this one...here's hoping I didn't screw it up.

"I give up," Diane said, flopping down onto her bed and staring up at the cieling. "I'll just pick it out and go with a fro. It's what practically everyone will expect anyway." 

Diane had picked out a dusky pink dress that looked striking against her dark skin, and she had planned, she said, to do something special with her hair. When Syndi had arrived to get ready, she'd found Diane glaring at herself in a mirror and, thinking it was probably better to keep silent, had let the frustration run its course while she put on her own deep blue dress and put her hair in a quick, simple braid.

"C'mon, Diane," Syndi said, sitting on the edge of the bed and catching Diane's hand with her own, "let me give it a try."

Diane snorted. "I need some relaxer and a flat iron and Ma won't let me have either." She blew out a sigh and sat up, giving Syndi's hand a squeeze. "Thanks for the offer, though." She gave a sad smile before crossing to her dresser and picking up a comb, clearly resigned to going to the dance with a fro - a look she had been trying to avoid all year. She'd told Syndi she used to love it, back when she lived in New York, but in Eerie, Indiana she already stuck out enough. She didn't want to make it worse.

Watching as Diane started combing through her hair, Syndi wished she could help somehow. Wished there was some way to...

Diane gasped and dropped her comb, stepping back from the mirror. Her hair, which a moment before had just been a mess of tight curls, was suddenly a series of braids that started tight to her scalp and then cascaded down her back, pink beads braided in to match her dress.

She turned around, grinning. "I'll still stick out," she said, "but at least they won't expect it." She reached out and Syndi took her hands, letting Diane pull her into a tight hug. "Thank you," she whispered.

Syndi was about to protest, to say she hadn't done anything, but she wasn't sure how true that was, so she just gave Diane a quick squeeze and then stepped back. "Let's knock 'em dead," she said.


	3. First Kiss

"You're not like. Using magic to make me do this, are you?" Diane asked. They were on Syndi's couch. Marshall was long in bed (Syndi hoped...) and her parents were out seeing a movie so it was just Syndi and Diane in the living room. A soap opera played quietly on the tv, but Syndi hadn't really been paying attention. Neither had Diane, who was leaning against Syndi with her head on Syndi's shoulder.

Syndi shook her head. "No, I, uh, I think the fact that you asked that means I didn't?" She still hadn't fully accepted that what she could do was magic, but Diane enjoyed joking about it, so she let it go. She wasn't even convinced she was doing anything, but as long as Diane didn't try to tell anyone else - namely a certain obnoxious thirteen year old paranormal investigator and his intrepid nine year old side kick - Syndi was all right with Diane calling it magic.

"Hey, Syndi," Diane said, sitting up just enough to turn her head so she could meet Syndi's eye. Syndi froze, their faces were so close, and waited for Diane to continue. "Would it be all right," she said after a moment spent just staring at Syndi. She paused, swallowed, tried again. "Would it be alright if I kissed you right now?"

Instead of saying anything, Syndi leaned her head forward ever so slightly and caught Diane's lips with her own. Initially she was just going to quickly peck Diane on the lips, but somehow it turned into something slower and more intimate.

When they pulled away and found that the lights were off and candles had been lit, Diane grinned and Syndi felt heat rise to her face.

They were an inch from kissing again when Marshall's voice called from upstairs, "Syndi! I think something's wrong with the power!"

"Duty calls," Syndi whispered, pressing her forehead against Diane's. 

Diane winked, then gave her another quick kiss before standing up. "I should probably go anyway," she said.

As soon as the door closed behind her, the lights came back.

"Nevermind!" Marshall called.

Syndi sighed and leaned back on the couch, trying to decide if it was worth going to prison for fratricide if it meant she could kiss Diane without interruption.


	4. Homework

"Shit. SHIT!" Syndi didn't even try to keep her voice low as she dug through her backpack, then flipped through textbooks and folders in search of the worksheet that was do in History today. It wasn't there. It wasn't anywhere. And as Syndi slumped down into her seat at the back of the room, she remembered where it was: on her desk, waiting for her to look it over one more time during breakfast.

Except she'd met Diane for breakfast. And all thoughts of homework had been trumped by a romantic morning out with her girlfriend. 

"What's up?" Diane asked, taking her seat beside Syndi's. Syndi just shook her head and ran her hand through her hair. "That bad?" Diane asked.

"Forgot my homework," Syndi said, calculating how much of a detriment this would be to her nearly 4.0 GPA. Probably not a bad one, but Syndi had never missed an assignment in all her years in school and she didn't want to start now.

No matter how good the reason.

Or how pretty.

Or how cute she looked with that little half-smile tugging at her lips.

Or how her eyes were a sort of greenish brown with little light flecks that seemed to sparkle.

"Now you're staring," Diane whispered, her cheeks a little darker than usual, as the teacher called the class to order.

There were a few more seconds of rowdiness, and a paper airplane sailed across the room and landed neatly on Syndi's desk. Syndi sighed and moved to crumple it up to toss in the recycling later, until she noticed that there was writing on it. She glanced around, trying to figure out who would want to pass her a note, then carefully unfolded it to find her homework sheet.


End file.
